'The Picture of Dorian Gray' by Oscar Wilde (published in 1890)
— Sophocles, Electra (translated by Anne Carson, with Introduction and Notes by Michael Shaw) (via lunamonchtuna)
The holy trinity:
“Dude” but like romantically
“Babe” but like platonically
“Sweetheart” but like rivalry
I am aware, sure, I am aware.
Catastrophically aware.
— Sylvia Plath, from “The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath”
lyraacademia
“I do not suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it”
— Edgar Allen Poe
Julian K. Jarboe, “As Tender Feet of Cretan Girls Danced Once Around an Altar of Love.” Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel
Mahmoud Darwish, from Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems; “The Hoopoe,”
mindmushpup-deactivated20230126
Oh to be sleepy and crawl into bed with someone who's warm and safe and you know will take care of you in all the right ways
When that disgusting season they call summer finally ends and you start feeling that sweet sweet autumn chill in the air
when sylvia plath wrote “the silence depressed me. it wasn’t the silence of silence. it was my own silence.” and when anne carson wrote “why does tragedy exist? because you are full of rage. why are you full of rage? because you are full of grief.” and when jenny slate wrote “and i am getting older but i am not growing up and my heart is getting soft dark spots on it like a fruit that has gone bad.” and when virginia woolf wrote “to want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain.” and when susanna kaysen wrote “when you’re sad, you need to hear your sorrow structured into sound.” and when margaret atwood wrote “already my childhood seemed far away – a remote age, faded and bittersweet, like dried flowers. did i regret its loss, did i want it back? i didn’t think so…” and when gillian flynn wrote “i was not a lovable child, and i’d grown into a deeply unlovable adult.”
ok so crying over a book is one of the most prominent sign of compassion for humanity. you’re crying over someone who isn’t really there, doesn’t really exist, but you still feel for them as if you've known them your entire life.